


Flowers and Honey: Epilogue

by DarkShadeless



Series: Flowers and Honey [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Tevinter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 05:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12336816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: In time it feels almost as if Alain is his master’s lover, not his pet.





	Flowers and Honey: Epilogue

 

It gets easier the next time. And the next.

There comes a point when Alain will feel the need churn in his belly before he has even cleaned himself up, will do it because _he_ wants, not because he thinks his master wishes to be entertained tonight. He becomes quite the spoiled, presumptuous pet. _He doesn’t care. Neither does his master and that is all that matters._

Sometimes he will steal into his master’s rooms, losing his clothes on the way and crawling into his lap already naked. Already _ready_. It’s always gratifying to see his master’s expression go hungry, see him lose track of what he is doing, with attention only for Alain.

That’s how he ends up ravished on the chaise after all, though perhaps it is the other way around. He claims his master’s lap, barely allows him to slide his pants low enough to free his cock, before he takes what he has come for, what he has wanted since dinner. Rides him right there, until the man is moaning his name.

But much as his master enjoys his body, Alain soon realizes that he did not humour him when they did other things, before he came to him for sex. His master still asks for his time in other ways, to share a drink or a game of chess. Asks for his company, his opinion even, on anything from the latest Entropy magic treatise to the replanting of the garden.

Sometimes he is required to accompany him to a function or other event. Before he does so he takes a refresher course in proper behaviour with the head slave of the household, a tiny elf lady with all the tenderness of a Great Bear, when she puts her mind to it. It’s even more gruelling than his initial lessons were but when he comes out on the other end, his manners are perfection. He will not be seen disgracing his master. _The certainty of that fills him with pride, maybe more than it should. He’s a kept thing, his master’s possession. Yet he hungers for the man’s approval, wants to earn his praise._

Through such societal obligations, mostly, Alain learns that their arrangement is best called unusual. That he is lucky. His master cares for him, perhaps more than is proper. Perhaps more than he should.

Magister Ameritus brushes away all sly suggestions of how well-groomed his pet looks, how his bed slave shines in his finery. Such is, after all, both a display of his master’s wealth and how well in standing Alain is in his household.

He had known the gifts he receives are expensive, his fellow slaves had teased him over it enough. He hadn’t thought that even when put on the spot at parties, where he will glimpse others like him, that would still be true. He does shine, draw considering and envious glances both.

‘You must make our master very happy.’ Elisa had said, once. He starts to understand why she did so. Alain hopes he does. He thinks he might. It’s a good feeling. _A part of him, small and ever growing more quiet, tried to fight that. Once, he had wanted to be free. But he had learned what that meant, before he was ever a slave in truth. Sometimes freedom just means there will be no one who cares when something comes to hurt you._

There have been incidents. When he did not know where not to stray, as a slave, too new to this world and had slipped away from his master’s side, from his protection. Once, even, one of the guests had caught him out, had tried to force a kiss and more, had bruised his wrist before he could get away.

Alain was so scared, when his master finally found him, had tried to hide it, hide all of it. His tears had all but ruined the kohl and he was no longer fit to attend anything, much less a gathering this fine. That was what he was here for, to be seen, and now he wasn’t presentable. It was his fault, somehow, he knew it. Maker, he had been _touched_ by another man, no matter that it hadn’t gone far.

He remembers stammering apologies, to try and soothe the anger flickering in his master’s cool blue eyes. Mellard had never been angry with him before then, not truly. He hadn’t known what to do. Had frozen in fear, fresh tears falling even as he tried to blink them away, when his wrist was caught, his master’s hand closing over the bruise that would be so vivid it was already coming in.

Remembers the calming wash of Creation magic that took the sting away, until it was gone. How his master had drawn him into his arms. He thinks he might have babbled something nonsensical, about how the man shouldn’t because he was going to get his running make-up all over his robes and ruin _those_ too. Then he had been caught in warmth and gentleness, sobbing until his throat was raw. They had stood there, in the darkened kitchens, the party a faint cacophony of music and voices, far off.

His master had demanded three things of him that night, before spiriting him away and not even making his excuses. ‘ _Are you hurt anywhere else?’_ had been easy. Face still buried where it was all Alain had had to do was shake his head. ‘ _Don’t leave my side. It is not safe here.’_ had been easy too. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Hardest of all, the thing no one had ever asked of him. The thing he almost couldn’t bring himself to answer. ‘ _Who?’_

In the quiet of that kitchen, tears and kohl drying on his face, Alain had looked up at his master. At the silent fury in him, that had made his eyes as cold as frost. He had looked at him and something small and lost inside of him had almost cracked with the understanding that it wasn’t aimed at him but still _for_ him. That this man would see him safe.

He had told him, then.

_He had never seen that guest again, heard nothing of him but whispers about disgrace and ruin. His master, it seemed, could be a vengeful man. It shouldn’t have felt soothing, to know that. To know that everyone else knew that, too. No one bothered him much, from then on out._

 

In time it feels almost as if Alain is his master’s lover, not his pet. He isn’t, he knows this. He can never be. This is the only way a relationship like theirs can exist in Tevinter. His master can allow himself the indulgence of a bed slave, even a male one. He couldn’t have a lover, in that vein. It’s scandalous enough that he hasn’t married, is apparently content to let his siblings handle the matter of heirs for him.

Still, when they are alone, or only trustworthy ears can hear, it is like that. Especially once Alain is sure enough of himself to disagree, when he thinks he should. Confident enough to tell his master when he thinks the man is going about something the wrong way, when they talk late at night. He would have never dared, in the beginning. Now they even fight, sometimes. Rarely.

Once, he has relegated him to the chaise for the night when his mouth got ahead of his mind, banished him from his own bed.

Alain had been entirely appalled, as soon as he caught up with what he had said. Not as appalled, though, as at his master actually doing as he had demanded and waking with a crick in his back that had him wincing all day. They had put their spat to rest over Alain working that out of him.

It's things like these that fill him up with something warm and soft and a little painful. His master has all the power he could want, over Alain, yet he is content most of the time to let him have as much of it as he likes. Sometimes he is sure that this is what love feels like.

_Foolish, to love another man here, any man, much less his master. But he can’t help himself. His master, it seems, can’t either._

 


End file.
